If you came of age in the 1990s, you likely remember the wind-swept posters of Aashiqui - a love story whose music became the nation's heartbeat and whose leading lady, Anu Aggarwal, turned into an overnight sensation. But the arc of her life did not follow the familiar celebrity script. It veered suddenly and violently - towards a near-fatal crash, a 29-day coma, profound memory loss, and, ultimately, a radical reinvention that now centres on mental health, yoga, and community work.
The Rise: A debut That Defined A Decade
Aggarwal's film debut in Aashiqui (1990) made her a household name, establishing a fresh screen presence that cut through the era's conventions and creating a cultural phenomenon powered by a blockbuster soundtrack. She followed it with roles across industries - appearing in Hindi titles such as Khal-Naaikaa, King Uncle, and Janam Kundli; a festival-travelling short (The Cloud Door); and Mani Ratnam's Tamil caper Thiruda Thiruda. The breadth of work, in a compact run, underscored both curiosity and capability, even as Aashiqui remained the touchstone of her stardom.
Her backstory made the ascent feel even more improbable. A Delhi University gold medallist in sociology who moved from modelling and VJ-ing into acting, she was neither engineered by the studio system nor inclined to play by its rules. That contrarian streak - independence, experimentation, and an early attraction to yoga - would later shape the way she navigated adversity.
One night On Marine Drive: The Accident That Changed Everything
In 1999, while driving back from a party in Mumbai, Aggarwal was involved in a severe car crash near the Chowpatty stretch. She suffered multiple fractures and devastating head injuries, slipped into a coma for 29 days, and awoke with almost no memory of her past. Doctors, she has recalled, cautioned her family that survival itself was uncertain; if she did live, profound disability was likely. Accounts from her own interviews over the years describe paralysis, facial disfigurement, and the painstaking process of relearning everything from language to mobility.
In an interview, she told Pinkvilla, "My body couldn't move. I was in a wheelchair. My body was somewhere else, I was somewhere else. After that, my parents tried to take me to Delhi, but the flight was impossible. I had no idea... I was a traveller... all through the modelling time... Paris, New York, London... I had no recollection. I did not even know what Paris was. I was on the bed when one of my aunts came from America... and I was looking at her... What is it? What is America? What is the place?"
She recalled that as soon as she was brought to the hospital in the early hours of the morning, the medical team rushed to attend to her. "You are Anu Aggarwal... you can't die... You had lost your breath... we had to pump breath... you were going... all the top doctors cancelled their appointments... to treat me..." she told, noting that she later slipped into a coma that lasted 29 days.
In subsequent reflections, Aggarwal has said that her recovery confounded medical expectations and was rooted in a stubborn belief that healing was possible - directing her towards breath, stillness, and yogic practices even as she rebuilt basic functions. The timeline is stark: a 29-day coma; grim prognoses that suggested a life measured in just a few years; then, slowly, the spark and discipline to recover her body and mind.
When her memory returned piecemeal - if at all - Aashiqui was not a personal archive but an artefact: her mother played the film, and she struggled to recognise the young woman on screen. Talking to Indian Express, she said, "I couldn't think the girl on screen was me, but I felt the emotions. The film had such strong emotions. That's why people still talk about it. At the end of the day, the audience responds to what they see, and during the film, they were throwing money on the screen, laughing and crying. That happened because the film does move you."
In interviews, she has also spoken about how the accident became a turning point in her spiritual awakening.
Her memoir, Anusual: Memoir of a Girl Who Came Back from the Dead, distills this shift. It chronicles the abrupt detour from fame to renunciation, the near-death experience, and the eventual return to Mumbai as a yoga teacher - an arc told, fittingly, in her own voice.
Life after The Accident
Post-recovery, Aggarwal lived for years as a renunciate, immersed in austere practice and study. By her own accounts and independent profiles, she trained deeply in yoga and meditation traditions before turning outward again - this time not to a film set, but to community programmes that use mind-body tools to build resilience.
In 2017, she formalised her outreach by registering the Anu Aggarwal Foundation (AAF), a not-for-profit focused on mental health, women's and children's empowerment, and "happiness building" through her AnufunYoga modules. The foundation's materials emphasise grassroots work - from trauma support and mindfulness education to livelihood-linked programmes - designed to make emotional hygiene as non-negotiable as physical health.
The organising principle is personal: Aggarwal often cites her self-healing journey as the seed of her methodology, arguing for integrated care that treats the mind as both the site of distress and the wellspring of repair.
Although largely outside mainstream film production, Aggarwal has remained an articulate voice in public conversations - about 1990s film culture, about the casting-couch discourse, and about how women in cinema (and beyond) can assert boundaries while refusing to flatten all men into a monolith.
She has said she did not personally experience quid-pro-quo demands, yet insists the phenomenon is hardly unique to films and must be addressed without denial - and without tarring entire communities. She also continues to engage with contemporary cinema as a viewer, praising the ambition of films such as RRR and expressing openness to story worlds that reflect an evolving audience.
What She's Doing Now
Today, Aggarwal's professional life is a weave of roles: motivational speaker, author, and founder-director of AAF. The foundation runs programmes that target mental health literacy, stress relief, and empowerment among women, children, and vulnerable groups. She is also open to acting. A few years ago, she told the Indian Express, "My first bread and butter came from modeling, the entertainment business, and then films. I am an actor. I have been away for a very long time, but I am here to act. I have started meeting filmmakers and am ready and already hearing scripts and going to sign something that I like."
The film That Began It All
It is impossible to tell Anu Aggarwal's story without returning to Aashiqui, the film that minted her fame. Mahesh Bhatt's Aashiqui (1990) became one of Bollywood's most iconic romantic dramas, launching newcomers Anu Aggarwal and Rahul Roy into overnight stardom. The film was produced by Gulshan Kumar under T-Series and Vishesh Films and is still remembered for its hugely successful soundtrack, which played a major role in its popularity.
Aggarwal's portrayal of Anu Verghese made her an instant household name, while the film's emotional tone and music helped cement its status as a cult classic. The film's success was outsized.
Today, Anu Aggarwal stands as proof that identity can be remade, patiently, with breath and attention.
Also Read: Why This Munna Bhai MBBS Actress Left Bollywood After Surviving A Coma
